Nothing here remains but the sand

Creeps in with plans for future dunes

"Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m going to take

Real good care of you."

(Yes, I remember, and trust me, it's important that I do.)

Someone's been there obviously,

Long foregone in search of belongings,

Though taken full account and decided:

Let that old man who lost his only son

Off the hook. Look at those treasures, for won;

If sand were dollars…you'd be a richer man.

I stood as the pillars there, and wonder why

Less and less as more sand creeps in.

As I said, nothing there remains, not even salt,

Just sand.

Just sand.